3 More Poems de Terre May 20, 2011

#1 Sitting in the Dark, Never in Perfect Quiet

Cars accelerate up the hill
And a jet flies overhead.

The low rumble of somebody’s television
Tickles the apartment walls.

Cicadas, or are they tiny frogs
Warming up for the summer song.

Not on the internet, the computer clicks
And whirrs softly, showing its age.

Someone on the street laughs out loud
For real this time, not LOL.

I joined the dating service two weeks ago
And haven’t the nerve to look inside.

I’m tired of men and tired of Love.
Make me a cowboy camping under stars.

I’m tired of politics and world collapse
Tired of selfishness and stupidity.

And most of all....
I’m tired of me.


#2 Borderline

Borderline.
Is hardest to fix.
A day of anger
Followed by love.

Borderline.
I can’t. I can’t.
I can’t.
Do this anymore.

Borderline
Is caused by pain
Inflicted on a child
Held deep inside.

Borderline.
I see your face.
And say nothing.
As it fades.

Borderline
You know I lie.
Because the truth
Would stop our hearts.

3. I Want Another Ticket for this Ride

But if there’s reincarnation,
Let me remember what I know.
Don’t think that I will get it right
Restarted with a virgin’s glow.

Or will we be in  a Heaven
Where women have no need of men?
Does that mean an endless orgasm,
Or the crotch of a plastic Ken?

But
But
But

What if the world’s a nightmare
Of pollution, hunger and war,
With Republicans in control?
Would I want to open the door?

For a chance to be young and hot
And slender, with red hair and knockers.
Drinking and dancing with no cares
Kissing sweet artists and rockers.

But
But
But

Will I know how to avoid pain?
Will I know not to grab at straws
Whom no other woman would want.
Just to have a male in my paws?

And what if I were reborn male?
The stalking woman, the liar,
Or worse, one faking “accidents”,
Dragging babies into the fire.

Yes
Yes
Yes

I’ll take all the chances, if given.
I want to have a youthful heart.
I want to run and dance and jump.
A thinker, but a bit of a tart.

It will not happen, I’m stuck here
A limping, sagging, fat old mess.
With no memories but ashes,
No sins, just wishes to confess.